


Pay It Forward

by thatwriterlady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art Student Castiel, Artist Castiel, Castiel Likes Dean Winchester, Castiel says yes, Coffee Shop Owner Gabriel, College Student Dean, Dean Flirts, Dean Winchester Likes Castiel, Dean asks Castiel out, Down to Earth Dean, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Past trauma for Dean, Struggling Student Castiel, rough childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwriterlady/pseuds/thatwriterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is a struggling art student, older than most, just wanting to follow his dreams and earn a degree in art.  He strikes a deal with his older brother Gabe who owns a little cafe so that he can get practice with his portraits, but Gabe has a better idea that will do them both some good.  He sets his brother up at a table near the counter with empty cups and his art pencils.  For a $2 donation customers can get their likeness sketched onto their cup.  It's a gimmick that works, and soon word is getting around about the coffee shop with it's inexpensive but high quality coffee, and the hot artist putting art on the cups.  Many people flirt and ask Cas out, but he always says no.  He's been holding out, waiting for that special someone to come into his life.  The last thing he expected was for it to happen on a slow, Wednesday afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another prompt I came up with after seeing a random pic show up on my FB page. I went to hunt it down on Tumblr (because isn't everything on Tumblr?), and in doing so, I thought I'd make another of my collages. Well, let's just say people pissed me off. So rather than step on toes, I'm not putting shit up for pictures. And the story, enjoy it while it lasts because with the nasty mood I am now in, it will be up until 9pm tomorrow evening, and then I'm pulling it. I can write a story based on anything. I freaking wrote an entire fiction based on the color blue for Chuck sake. I can see a random picture and just create entire stories in my head. IT'S WHY I'M A WRITER. I've been writing for DECADES. If I didn't want to share the things I create I freaking wouldn't be WRITING IN THE FIRST PLACE. But artists apparently are much touchier, and I don't like stepping on anyone's feet. I don't like confrontation, I avoid it at all costs, and this, to me, is the easiest way to do that. So not only do you all not get the collage, I am not even going to put up the link to the picture that inspired this fic. Do not include it in comments either, I want nothing further to do with that picture, and am now disgusted with my own story. Nothing like disillusioning a writer. Might just have to stop writing these fics altogether.
> 
> Read it, maybe you all will like it. I sure did. Now I don't.

“Cassie! What brings you in here, little brother?” Gabe came around the counter to hug his younger brother.

“I have a favor to ask.” Cas stepped back and wrung his hands together nervously.

“Anything. You know you can always count on me,” Gabe said.

“Well, my professor says my drawings are some of the best he’s ever seen, but he thinks I should work more on people since I mostly do still life. So I was wondering, is there a way I could like maybe sit here and draw people?” Cas asked.

“You want to sit here and just draw my customers?” Gabe wanted to be sure he was understanding the question correctly.

“Yes? Just for a couple hours a day since I still need to work and make money for rent.” Cas chewed on his lower lip nervously. If Gabe said no that would mean he’d have to sit on a bench in a local park somewhere and try to draw people. 

“Yeah, sure, I mean why not? But I have a better idea.” Gabe had to lean up to wrap an arm around his brother’s shoulder, Cas had several inches up on him.

“What did you have in mind?” Cas was curious as to what could make the situation better than his brother just agreeing to let him come in and sit for a few hours every day to draw.

Gabe grinned excitedly. “So how does this sound…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was not what Cas had envisioned, but he had to admit, the gimmick worked both to his benefit and to his brother’s. Cas was parked at a table near the counter where he had a clear view of the customers, and a stack of empty cups were sitting next to him. The idea was that people could get their faces drawn on their cup for a small donation. Several examples of his art were already drawn and sitting on the table. A sign sat out on the sidewalk advertising Cas’ “art” that would be drawn on cups for $2 per cup, and the money went straight to Cas. If they wanted to give a larger donation to a “struggling art student” as Gabe put it, that was the customer’s prerogative. It was meant to earn Cas both experience and pocket money while drawing in new customers for Gabe. Gabe wanted to draw in more of the college crowd since he sat smack in the center of one university and two colleges. Currently most of his customer base was middle-aged people that stopped in between six and nine in the morning to grab their morning cup of Joe before rushing off to work. He wanted to appeal to the hip, younger crowd, and he saw his brother’s talent as a way to make that work for them both. 

The first day Cas sketched exactly two faces onto cups, but both people were immensely pleased and gave larger tips than the required $2, so he was happy with that. The second day he did six, everyone pleased with his work and eager to pass on the news that there was an artist at “The Brewhouse.” Cas still thought the name was inaccurate but after a dozen or more arguments about how it sounded more like a bar than a coffee shop, he gave up. Gabe could be infuriatingly stubborn when he wanted to be, and Cas was a lover not a fighter. It just wasn’t worth it to fight him when it was Gabe’s coffee shop.

The third day word seemed to get around and he had a steady line of people waiting for their face to be drawn on to their cups, and this crowd was indeed much younger than the standard crowd. He looked a lot younger than he really was, so he appealed to them, and that was working to everyone’s benefit. Cas’ hand flew across each cup, creating remarkably accurate portraits at lightning speed. By the end of the week he was averaging roughly fifty dollars a day. His hand ached but his pocketbook certainly didn’t, and his brother was thrilled with the surge in business.

Sometimes customers asked for other things to be drawn on their cups. One guy, a student over at the university as he so told Cas, asked for Donald Trump riding a unicorn on his cup. Thoroughly amused, Cas drew it. The guy loved it so much he left a $10 tip. After that, Cas began doing more and more freelance work. He wrote fancy names, iconic images, and just about anything people could come up with. Gabe was thrilled with the extra business, and Cas was excited to be able to afford more than just noodles and dollar store pizzas. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even after the school year ended Cas continued doing the portraits. Now that he had a few months off he could work longer hours and was pulling in anywhere from $75 to $100 a day. Gabe was taking in so much business that for the first time since opening his doors he had to hire more staff. Usually, after a few hours of doing the cup art, Cas would jump behind the counter and help out. He needed every penny he could possibly get. Between rent, tuition, food and utilities, he was dead broke, even with the extra income.

It was more than just Cas’ artwork that was drawing in business. The coffee was better than most in the area and word of mouth was going around that not only was it cheaper than Starbucks, but the coffee was much better, and there was a wider variety of pastries available for breakfast, as well as items for vegans and those watching their weight, which helped to increase the little shop’s popularity. Gabe was talking about buying out the space next door and expanding the shop, but he wanted to go one further and put Cas’ art on the walls, and offer it for sale. They already had some pieces hanging up now, gifts from Cas to Gabe over the years, but now there were more pieces up, these ones for sale. It had earned Cas a spot in the local art gallery and now his work was gaining in local popularity. Asking his brother if he could come in and sketch people had turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to them both. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was on a slower Wednesday afternoon in the dead of summer, when most of the college kids had gone home, that _he_ walked in. The shop was still humming with activity, but it was at half of its usual number of patrons. Cas had just had a lovely conversation with a girl who had flirted hard with him while he did her portrait. It had taken him a couple of minutes before he had figured out what she was doing, and he was still blushing after she had taken her cup and walked away. Another benefit (or maybe it was a downside?) to meeting all these people every day and chatting with them was that a lot of people flirted with him. Sometimes he caught on right away, like the girls that greeted him by calling him handsome, or the guys that slipped him their numbers. Sometimes he was interested, sometimes he wasn’t. Well, usually he wasn’t. So far he hadn’t agreed to any dates. While some people were attractive, he wasn’t interested enough to say yes. His brother told him he was missing out on all the hotties that were constantly asking if Cas was single and available, but Cas just ignored the subject. He was waiting for the right person, and he wouldn’t just settle. 

The girl had just taken her cup (and obvious disappointment over the fact that Cas had not flirted back) up to the front counter to order her coffee when the bell over the door jingled. Cas was busy sharpening his pencils and had long ago given up on watching the door for possible customers. A deep chuckle drew his attention and he looked up to see his brother engaged in a conversation with a man so stunningly beautiful he couldn’t stop staring. Instinctively his hands reached for a fresh pencil and an empty cup. He began to sketch the perfection that was this man’s face, adding in the details he usually left off with other people when he was in a hurry, like shadowing, and the long eyelashes that framed the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen in his life. Those lips were incredible, so plump, and when he smiled at something Gabe said, Cas actually sighed. He watched the man reach behind his hips to stuff his hands in his back pockets as he looked up at the menu.

“Did you check out my brother’s art? He puts arts on the cups for a small donation,” Gabe was saying. Cas’ eyes widened when he noticed his brother pointing at him, and holy hell, those incredible green eyes were turning in his direction, one eyebrow arching when they fell on Cas. The man said something to Gabe before crossing the short distance, coming to a stop in front of Cas’ table. Cas himself was trying not to let his racing heart beat its way out of his chest as he looked up at the man.

“Hey.” 

Cas swallowed hard. Dear Lord the man’s voice was deep, almost as deep as his own, and so rich. It was as sexy as he was.

“Um, hello.” His voice cracked. Fuck. The guy smiled, tilting his head to study one of the sketches that sat on the table.

“You did these? Are you the guy everyone on campus keeps talking about?” 

“I guess?” Cas couldn’t imagine that people were bragging that much about his art on any campus, including his own. Those green eyes moved across the tabletop, from sketch to sketch. When they lifted up to meet Cas’ own blue eyes, he was pretty sure his heart had completely stuttered to a stop.

“Yeah, it’s definitely you.” The man had a killer smile to go along with that voice and his incredible good looks.

“I hadn’t realized my art was that popular,” Cas replied shyly.

“It really is, but there’s also the rumor that the artist himself was incredibly hot.” 

Cas’ eyes widened. “Me?” he squeaked. The guy smiled wider.

“ _Definitely_ you. Hi, I’m Dean.” He offered a hand and Cas hadn’t even realized he was extending his own hand until the other guy was gripping his firmly. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Cas.” 

“Cas, that’s different. Is it short for something?” Dean asked. No one ever really asked about his name, or about him in general. They either asked for whatever picture they wanted on their cup or they asked for the picture and they flirted. Only a few had ever thought to ask him his name, but none had asked what it was short for. Until now.

“It is, it’s short for Castiel. My brother and I, we were named after angels, except the nurse filling out my birth certificate misspelled my name.” 

Dean pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. “Oh yeah? What was it supposed to be?”

“Cassiel, Angel of Thursday, but she thought my mother had said Castiel. In the end my parents just left it. I like it better with a T, but regardless, I’d have gone by Cas.” Wow, he hadn’t expected to have a real conversation with anyone.

“At least the story behind your name is cool. I was named after my _grandmother_ , Deanna,” Dean snorted. Cas smiled.

“That is…unfortunate, but I believe the name Dean suits you. It’s a strong name.”

“You think? I always wanted to be a Rick or a Bill,” Dean said. Cas shook his head.

“No, Dean was definitely the right name.” 

Dean’s eyes drifted back to the table and his eyebrows rose in surprised. “Is that… _me_?”

Cas followed his gaze and realized he still had the cup sitting there. He blushed as he picked it up. “Oh, um, yes, it is. I…made it while you were at the counter talking to my brother.” He held it a heartbeat longer before thrusting it out at Dean. “Here, take it.”

Dean took the cup and looked at the picture up close. “Wow, the detail is…wow. You’re amazing, not that you aren’t hearing that a million times every day, but seriously, you are. No one has ever sketched me before.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.

“Oh, no, it’s ok. Keep it.” Cas’ cheeks were red again, but he couldn’t help it.

“No, that would be rude and much too advantageous of me. I’m not like that. You’re a struggling artist; I was once a struggling mechanic. I won’t accept the cup unless you let me donate.” Dean opened his wallet and plucked out a $20. He stood up long enough to tuck it into the box Gabe had created for him.

“You don’t have to give me that much, seriously, it’s not worth that. It’s just $2.” Cas went to give the man change, but Dean touched his arm and he turned back to look at him.

“Can I tell you my story?”

Cas dropped the hand he’d been reaching for the box with into his lap and nodded. He didn’t understand how anything Dean had to say would sway him, but he at least wanted to hear the man out.

“Ok, so I’m thirty now, but when I was four my mom died. I have a brother, Sam, he’s three and a half years younger than me and when our mom died, our dad just kind of lost it. He sank into such a deep depression that he ended up getting fired, losing our house, and we were forced onto the streets. For years we lived out of shitty motels because our dad couldn’t hold a steady job to get us an apartment. He ran some scams at bars playing pool to get a little money here and there, but we were homeless. I took over the care for my brother because if I hadn’t, I think he might very well have starved to death, and our dad was never sober enough to even give a shit if Sammy was crying or sick. I had to grow up very quickly. By the time I was eight I was out running my own scams just to make enough to feed my little brother. Dad would disappear, sometimes for weeks on end, and leave us barely enough money to cover the cost of whatever room we were staying in, and I refused to let my brother go hungry because our dad was useless. I didn’t care about myself as long as he got a belly full of food. One time, though, I ran a scam, and the dude recognized me. It turned out it was my dad’s best friend Bobby. Bobby had no idea what had happened since our mom died because we had just disappeared into the wind as far as he knew. He took me to the store, bought me and Sammy dinner before driving me back to the motel we’d been living out of at that time. I was almost eleven at that time. Bobby was so angry at my dad. We were in school, barely. I missed a lot of school until he came into our lives. I had been put back two grades from missing so much school having to take care of my drunk father, to make sure he wouldn’t vomit in his sleep and suffocate. But I made sure Sammy went to school every single day. I made sure he was on his best behavior and that he did his homework every single day, and that he was growing up to be a good man. He was all I cared about. Bobby came into our motel room to find out that our dad had been gone on a bender for going on three weeks. The room money had run out and so had the food, which was why I was out trying to make enough to buy at least a half-gallon of milk and a box of cereal because I knew that would last Sammy at least a few days until I could get more money. He was getting free lunches at school so he was getting at least two meals a day.” Dean looked up, making sure he still had Cas’ attention. He certainly did. Blue eyes were watching him intently, listening to his every word.

“Anyway, Bobby was mad. Not at me, but at my dad. Said my dad should have called him if we were in trouble. I hadn’t seen Bobby since I was maybe six, and at first, when I'd been trying to rip him off, I didn't even recognize him. I wasn't looking people in the eye though, I was carrying enough guilt over what I was doing, but when he caught me he demanded to know my name. I was too scared to lie, so I said it was Dean. He asked me if I was Mary Winchester's boy. Something clicked and memories of Bobby and his wife Karen who had since passed away came flooding back. He really hadn’t changed much and I was still afraid to cross the man. Back at the motel he packed us up and took us to his place, which I’d forgotten was a junkyard he owned with a house tucked in the middle. A note was left in the room and at the front desk for our dad to call Bobby when he finally returned. We got settled in at Bobby’s in a room on the second floor, and every day he drove us to school and picked us up. After school I would follow him out to the garage where he taught me how to work on cars. Two weeks later my dad showed up. I expected him to be pissed at Bobby, but he actually seemed to be relieved. He stayed for a couple of weeks and then was gone again. Turned out my dad had a lady friend a few states over, and he’d knocked her up. We had a little brother and all of those trips when my dad went away for weeks at a time? He was going to see her and his other kid. She didn’t know about us, and he didn’t know how to tell her. I sure did though. I found out her name, and I looked her up. Felt like a real detective seeking her out back then. I called her one day when Bobby was at the store. I didn’t want him to yell at me for it. I told her who I was and where I was. She was calm, said she had figured my dad had other kids by the way he kept disappearing for weeks at a time. She wanted our address and the next time my dad left her, she was going to drive out to meet Sam and me. I was excited but scared. I was afraid she would hate us or see us as brats or something, and it had been so long since we’d had a mother figure of any kind. It really was terrifying.” Dean looked down at the cup in his hand and swallowed hard.

“My dad, he didn’t make it back. He left Kate’s house and went to a bar instead of coming back to Sammy and me. Wrapped himself around a tree. No one knew what had happened. Kate showed up with our little brother, Adam, and she was…amazing. So sweet and kind. I wanted so bad for her to be our mom too. And she wanted to be. She stayed a few days at Bobby’s insistence, but our dad never showed. So Bobby asked Kate if she wouldn’t mind taking us in for a week or so while he went and tried to hunt down our dad. One week turned into two, and Bobby still hadn’t found our dad. We were having a blast at Kate’s though. She taught me how to cook and Sam was having a blast playing with Adam. He was two and so full of energy. The third week was when he found out what had happened. Rather than call Kate to tell her, he showed up. That was the scariest day of my life. Both of our parents were dead, and there was no one to claim Sam or me. No living relatives that gave a damn and we were destined to end up in the foster system, but Bobby stepped up, became our legal guardian, and when I was fourteen and Sammy was ten, he legally adopted us. I was doing well enough in school by that point that they tested me and put me ahead a year, so now I was only one year behind. Bobby continued to teach my brother and me how to work on cars, though Sammy never liked it much. I loved it though, and that summer I worked right alongside Bobby. See, he also ran an auto repair shop, and that was the first time I ever earned money legitimately.”

Dean lifted his head to look at Cas and there was so much sadness where Cas had expected there to be pride and joy.

“What happened?” Cas asked softly. He knew something bad must have occurred.

“When I was fifteen I woke up one morning to find Bobby unconscious on the kitchen floor. I called an ambulance, but it was too late. For a third time we had lost a parent. I called Kate to tell her what had happened. She had been staying in touch with us and we would go and visit her in the summertime for a few weeks every year. She had just gotten married earlier that year and her new husband didn’t like Adam, let alone us, and as badly as she wanted to take us in, he refused. There was literally nowhere my brother or I could go. We went to stay a couple of days with another friend of Bobby’s, but then she told us DCS was coming to pick us up. So…I grabbed Sam and we ran.” Dean sniffled and turned the cup over in his hand to look at the picture again.

“It seemed luck was on our side though. I was panhandling on the street, playing guitar and singing, taking anything I could get. I did it for almost a year. Sammy and me, we lived under a bridge, if you can believe it. Anyway, this woman started showing up. She would stand every day through an entire set and leave a twenty in my case. Every day, seven days a week. She did this for months on end, right up until the snow began to fall and everything froze. Kept striking up conversations with me, asking me little things like how my day was going, or if I’d made enough to eat that day, stuff like that. At first I was afraid she was from social services, but she told me she was a nurse. Even showed me her ID. I was surprised to see her name was Missouri. Really nice lady. Anyway, one afternoon I had Sammy with me because we’d lost our spot under the bridge. He was cold and not feeling well, and I was trying to earn enough to get him some cough medicine but I really hadn’t made much that day. She asked about Sam and offered to take a look at him. Turns out my little brother was sicker than anything cough syrup could fix. He had a bad bout of viral bronchitis. Missouri, she’s a no nonsense kind of lady. Wasn’t going to take any lip from a couple of teenagers, so when she told me to pack up my guitar and get our stuff together, I did it. She took us home with her. I know it might seem strange, but I trusted her in a way that I didn’t trust most people, and she proved to be worthy of my trust. She got Sammy fixed up, fed us, cleaned us up, and gave us a room in her house. It turns out she used to be friends with our mother and in asking me questions all those months she had figured out who we were. She’d done her research without giving away where we were and learned about Bobby and had even called Kate, who was worried sick about us. Three days after we had arrived at her house she asked us if we wanted to stay. We both said yes. She went and got all the paperwork drawn up to become our foster mother. I went back to working on cars with her brother-in-law Ted, and he taught me even more about cars. I lived with Missouri until I was twenty since I’d set myself back again by missing more school. It turned out Bobby had left the junkyard and auto shop to me. His lawyer had kept the place up and running until I was old enough to take over. I had a house of my own, property, and a business, and no clue what to do with any of it. Missouri insisted I go get a degree in business, so I did. I also became a licensed auto mechanic. Turns out I have a good sense for business, and Sammy? He got into Stanford on a full scholarship. He became a lawyer, came home, and helped me with the junkyard and the shop. A couple of years ago I got the itch to do something else. Missouri always told me I could do anything, be anything I wanted if I put my mind to it, so I went back to school this time to be a teacher. I am currently in my third year. I did my stint as a student teacher already, and I’ll be doing it again when school starts back up for a few months. When I graduate I’ll have my BA in education and I have a job lined up with my old high school.” Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t mean to insult you by giving you a twenty. It’s my general rule that I pay it forward. Missouri was the reason that for six months while my brother and I were homeless, we had food in our bellies and a way to wash our clothes so we weren’t on the streets in dirty rags. I picked us up sleeping bags at a Goodwill store so my brother and I were warm, and I picked up a baseball bat there as well to protect us. Because of her twenty every day, we survived. So that is what I give every single time I donate. I may no longer be struggling but I know what it’s like to struggle, even if you’re not technically struggling. The way people talk about you on campus, and the drawings and sketches I saw on cups all over the place, I knew you were incredibly talented. Plus I hear the coffee is cheap but excellent. The fact that you would just give this to me? It tells me you’re thoughtful and generous, probably even when you’re hurting. Me? I’d give the shirt off my back if it meant someone was able to use it to stay warm. That’s just my nature. So, even if you’re making a million every day, you take your money, save it, because those student loans are coming and you’ll need every single penny you have to pay them off. Trust me, I know. I got my first set of loans paid off and now I have these that I’m paying as I go because I don’t want to be in debt later. I’m not rich, but I’m comfortable. Thing is, I know what it’s like to have everything ripped out from under me, so I like to save and plan ahead, and when I have the opportunity to help someone else, I do it. So this is me helping out a fellow student.” Dean shrugged and turned the cup over in his hand carefully, as though it was his most prized possession.

“Geez, I really unloaded on you. I’m sorry. Can I ask, how old are you?” Dean looked up at him again.

“I am thirty two, actually. However, I am often told I look twenty five. My story is not quite so interesting though,” Cas said.

“I’d still like to hear it.” Dean smiled, and it was encouraging.

“Well, it’s Gabe and me, and our younger sister Anna. Our dad is a preacher, our mom is a social worker. Ironic, huh? Gabe, he’s the oldest at thirty seven. He was following in our dad’s footsteps, we both were. It was expected that we would become preachers like him, and that one of us would someday take over the church. We both earned degrees in religion. And then Gabe came out as bisexual. He had met a guy, fallen in love, and wanted to marry him. Well, according to our father, in the eyes of our church that was a huge sin, and he was excommunicated. It turns out it was my father’s views and not the actual views of the church. It was a devastating blow to our parents, who went so far as to disown him. So the burden of taking over the church fell to me. I didn’t want to. It felt like I was living a lie. I had not pushed my brother away and one day I drove out here and confessed that I was bisexual, too, though my preferences lean towards men. He was the only person I trusted to tell that to. He was very accepting and told me that I shouldn’t be forced to live a lie. I was terrified of disappointing my dad. Oh God, was I terrified. So…I started preaching forgiveness and love, acceptance and tolerance. I pointed out discrepancies in the Bible and then…I came out in front of the entire congregation. It was my intention to show my family that such ignorance was not the opinion of everyone in the church. My parents, my sister and brother-in-law, they were all sitting right in the front row. For several years my folks had been trying to get me to date this girl Hannah, and while she was a lovely young lady, I had zero attraction to her. My father was ready to burn me at the stake for making my confession in front of the entire church, but surprisingly enough, the rest of the congregation, with the exception of a few backwards thinkers, accepted me as I am. My mother wasn’t willing to lose another son, but she was ticked. Anna high fived me! I went on preaching, began dating a nice young man, we broke up, I started dating a girl named Meg that I was with for a couple of years, and then we split. Two years ago I realized I didn’t want to preach anymore. I had, for lack of a better term, lost my faith. I left the church, handing over the reins to Rafael, my cousin on my mother’s side, and I came out here to live with Gabe and his now husband. They got married last summer, as soon as it was legal. I was adrift, unsure what I wanted to do. I’ve always had a gift for drawing and painting and my brother encouraged me to pursue it. I worked here for a while serving coffee, and I still do when I’m needed, and to earn extra money when I need it, but I wanted to be on my own. Up until I moved here, I lived with my parents. It was important that I finally do something for me, and do it on my own. So I rented an apartment upstairs. My brother and his husband own the building, so they lowered the rent for me, which I appreciate, but I still struggle to pay it sometimes. I live across the hall from Gabe and Bal, and while my place is small as hell, I have my own space. I decided to go to school, for art this time. I have two more years. My art is finally starting to sell, so at least I’m not late on the rent anymore, and this…” He motioned towards his donations box. “It’s how I manage to eat more than just ramen and microwaveable pizza. I’m too old for that shit now.” He laughed. Dean grinned and nodded.

“Yeah, ramen gives me terrible heartburn now. I can’t eat the stuff.” He sat back in his seat again and looked at Cas. Cas got the feeling Dean was not just looking at him but the man was really seeing him, and he liked that.

“What?” he asked.

“I think you’re pretty amazing. I can’t believe you’re a preacher. You don’t seem like any preacher I ever met.” Dean’s tone was playful, and it made Cas laugh.

“Yeah, well, I was never much of one anyway.”

“So, are you seeing anyone, Cas?” Dean asked. Cas smiled and shook his head.

“Uh, no, I’m not.”

“Could I interest you in dinner tonight? I know a nice place, a friend of mine owns it. Best burgers in town.” Dean leaned forward again and Cas could see the hope lighting up those beautiful green eyes of his. Not only was Dean the most interesting person he had ever met, but the man had overcome incredible circumstances and still managed to retain his optimism. _That_ was the kind of person he’d been holding out for. Someone who looked at the world the way he did.

“I’d love to. I’m done here in about an hour.” Cas checked his watch. Yep, it was already after three. He and Dean had been talking for an hour already, though it felt like mere minutes. It surprised him that he hadn’t had any new customers in all that time.

“Do you get asked out a lot? I imagine you must,” Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. “Yes, but I’m very particular about the type of people I date.”

“Oh? And do I meet the right criteria?” There was open curiosity on Dean’s face.

“Actually, yes. And you’re the first person I’ve said yes to, for the record. I like your honesty, and your optimism. It’s refreshing. And if you are genuinely interested in a poor art student, then you have earned big points in my book.” Cas looked up, a flirtatious smile on his lips that had Dean smiling back.

“I’m definitely interested. I don’t date much, myself. My brother says I’m picky. I say I’m looking for the right person. Someone that sees my flaws, and accepts me as I am. The fact that you’re drop dead gorgeous doesn’t hurt either, but it’s not why I asked you out.” 

“Me? I think you need glasses.” Cas scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t see it then perhaps it’s _you_ that needs them,” Dean teased.

“So do you want me to get that filled for you?” Cas pointed at the cup in Dean’s hand.

“No way! And ruin it? I’ll get my coffee in a plain old cup. This here, it’s special. I’m hanging on to it.” Dean winked and smiled. Cas just grinned and shook his head.

“Since we told one another our entire life stories already, what on Earth are we going to talk about at dinner tonight?” he asked.

“How about dreams and goals for the future? Oh, and movies. Definitely movies,” Dean replied.

“I’d like that. You know what, I think I’m going to tell Gabe I’m done for the day. I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower, change into something that doesn’t reek of coffee, and I can meet you out front around say, six?” Cas stood up and began gathering his pencils and slipping them into their case. Dean stood up as well.

“Give me your number; I’ll text you when I’m here.” He already had his own phone out. Cas gave him his number, smiling when his own phone buzzed in his pocket. “I texted you so you have mine as well,” Dean told him.

Together they walked over to the counter. Gabe was engaged in a conversation with Alfie, one of his employees, about the difference between bread flour and cake flour but he dropped it to give them his attention.

“Hey, I’m going to close up for the day. This is the slowest it’s been, and I’d be done in a half hour anyway. I’m going out to dinner with Dean here tonight, so I’m going up to take a shower and get ready. Give him my coffee, ok?” Cas told him. Gabe nodded.

“Sure thing, kiddo. What kind of coffee do you want?” he asked Dean. 

“Oh, give him a new cup, too. He doesn’t want to use this one.” Cas pointed at the one Dean was practically cradling. Gabe smiled and nodded.

“You got it.”

Cas turned to Dean, reaching out and lightly touching his arm. “I’ll see you at six?”

“You can count on it. I drive a ’67 Impala, black. Can’t miss her,” Dean told him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” Cas ducked his head, still smiling as he returned to his table to pick his stuff up. Dean watched as he left through a back door, disappearing out of sight.

“What on Earth did you say to him to get him to go out with you?” Gabe suddenly asked.

“The truth. I told him where I came from,” Dean replied.

“And where is that exactly?” Gabe was suspicious, and he had every right to be. If Cas really was avoiding all the people that asked him out then he knew Dean must have been extra charming in order to earn himself a date.

“Hopefully one day soon I’ll get the chance to sit down with you and tell you, but rest assured, I’m not going to hurt your brother. I am taking him to dinner, getting to know him better, and seeing where things go from there. I’m not an asshole.” 

Gabe narrowed his eyes as he stared Dean down. Finally he sighed and headed for the coffee makers. “Fine, I’m going to hold you to that. What kind of coffee did you want?”

“Whatever is regular, black, three sugars. Oh, and one of these cherry tart things you have in the window.” Dean pointed at the pastry in question and Gabe got it out for him and put it in a small box. He handed over the cup and the box.

“How much do I owe you?” Dean asked.

“It’s on the house. Just…be gentle with my brother, ok? Treat him well? He deserves to be valued for more than just his art. He’s a really good guy,” Gabe said.

“I intend to do nothing less than that. And thank you, for the coffee and the tart. If you or your husband ever need your cars worked on, just let me know, ok? Maybe I’ll see you later.” Dean started for the door.

Gabe watched him leave, his eyes narrowed once again.

“Problem, sir?” Alfie asked.

“No, no problem. He’s taking Cassie out to dinner tonight, that’s all,” Gabe sighed.

“That’s good, isn’t it? Cas hasn’t been on a date since he left the church,” Alfie said.

“You’re right. I’m being overprotective. Let’s hope things work out for them, yeah? He sure is pretty. I can see why Cassie’s interested.”

Alfie snorted. “If you say so. Not my type.”

Gabe grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

“My husband is _much_ better looking though. He tells me so all the time!”

Alfie laughed and shook his head. He was happy for Cas, and he knew deep down, Gabe was too. 


	2. UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read below

So, for the time being, after talking to some people, this story will stay up.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for my griping up above. I'm not having a good moment right now, and that was the tiny shove I never should have received that pushed me over the edge. I'm sorry. I do hope you like the story. I will be removing it by tomorrow evening at 9pm EST. So enjoy. Leave a comment, I'll read them. Thank you all.


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